Revisionist History
by lazypadawan
Summary: The "real" story of Anakin and Padmé's wedding...can you trust a drunk holy man to keep it all a secret?


Revisionist History: The Wedding of A/P

It is well known that the star-crossed romance of Anakin and Padmé blossomed on the eve of the Clone Wars. It is said they exchanged their vows under the veil of secrecy on one of the picturesque promenades overlooking the lake. Little was known about the mysterious officiant who performed the ceremony, until today. We now present the true tale, as related by idle gossip, bad memories, and creative license for flair:

Anakin watched with great concern as the officiator Padmé arranged to come to perform the ceremony at the retreat stumbled around, mumbling to himself, and drinking out of a flask.

"Uh, sir, we're over here," Anakin said, waving at the holy man.

"Oh, there you are! I was beginning to wonder if I got the right place," the holy man slurred.

"Where did you find this guy?" Anakin whispered to his nervous bride.

"I'm sorry, Ani, this was the only one available on short notice who was willing to perform a secret ceremony," Padmé whispered back. "It's a spring weekend too, so everybody's busy. I had to go to the Little Fly-Thru Wedding Chapel to find him."

"The Little Fly-Thru Wedding Chapel? What in blazes is that?"

"It's um, next to the casino in the valley. People fly their speeders through 24 hours a day for quickie weddings."

"Why didn't we do that?"

"This is more romantic."

Anakin got a whiff of strong lomin ale as the holy man walked next to him. "I see," he said.

"Awright, who are the witnesses to today's ceremony?" the holy man asked a little too loudly.

"We are, sir," Threepio said from behind the couple, indicating Artoo.

"Droids? That's the best you can do?"

"Uh, it's supposed to be a secret ceremony, remember?" Padmé said.

"It's not a secret to them," the holy man argued, pointing at the droids.

"They're not going to tell anybody," Anakin said pointedly, his patience already running out. "Let's get the show going here."

"Okay, I'm ready to start if you are," the holy man hiccuped. "Ladies, gentlemen, droids, we are gathered here today to join these two lovebirds in holy but secret matrimony. Hey, you look an awful lot like Senator Amidala. Though you're younger and shorter than her if you ask me."

Padmé rolled her eyes.

"Say, feller, you're dressed like a Jedi. Is that why this is a secret ceremony?"

Anakin growled, "No, it's a costume. And it's none of your business why this is a secret. Okay?"

"Easy, youngster! Don't get your lightsaber out yet, heh heh."

"Please, continue with the ceremony, sir," Padmé said through gritted teeth.

"Right, right, right. I bet you're anxious to finish and get on with that honeymoon. Okay, let's get to the vows. Now, uh, Panakin..."

"It's Anakin."

"Right, Anakin. Do you take this woman to be your secret bride for richer or poorer, through sickness and through health, from this day forward til death do you part?"

"I do," Anakin said, his eyes tearing up.

"And, um, Pad-mee?"

"It's pronounced Pad-may."

"Of course. Do you take this man to be your secret husband for richer or poorer, through sickness and through health, from this day forward til death do you part?"

"I do," Padmé said, also starting to cry.

"Now, I will through song ask for a blessing from the goddess." He began to sing in a horrible voice, continuing to slur his words. It went on and on, his voice getting louder.

"That's okay, I'm sure the goddess has heard enough," Anakin said, interrupting the holy man's incantation.

"Are you sure?"

"We're certain," Padmé said.

"Fine," the holy man shrugged. "Okay, hold hands." Anakin took Padmé's hand. "By the power vested in me by the Force and the Naboo Gaming Commission, I pronounce you husband and wife. Now if you'll excuse me, it's happy hour back at the casino and I'm outta booze."

The young lovers kissed as the holy man staggered away. "Are you sure he's trustworthy?" Anakin asked as they gazed out at the lake.

"The way he was liquored up, I doubt he'll remember he was even here."

***

"Oooh, Corellian brandy," the holy man said a couple of years later, gratefully knocking back a shot of the precious spirit at the casino lounge. "Thanks, Mr. Sidious."

The man's wicked grin was the only thing visible from beneath his black cowl. "No, thank you."

The End


End file.
